


♔ Mirror Mirror ♔

by WhisperingMirrorHallway



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Dark Fantasy, Dark Magic, F/M, Magic Mirrors, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, POV Female Character, Reader-Insert, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMirrorHallway/pseuds/WhisperingMirrorHallway
Summary: Lovely collab with tumblr user Anthar Wolfen.https://anthar-wolfen.tumblr.com/
Relationships: skekSo (Dark Crystal)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	♔ Mirror Mirror ♔

He wanted something real; something outside of the perfidiousness of daily court life. He knew SkekSil was a lying, self-promoting trickster. And every other Skeksis would just love for the seat of Emperor to be vacant so they could rise to glory. Even the lowly Scientist, with his insistent groveling and victim’s attitude, had a façade of duty to Skekso; no true loyalty there, other than to protect himself. Meanwhile, SkekSo worked tirelessly to save them all from the grips of death. He was rotting away _for them_. No one around him was true. The closest thing was his own reflection in a mirror. The Mirror – Gifted to him eons ago, in the epoch where the glory of his reign was at its empyrean height. It was a complex gilt bronze wall mirror, composed of running tendrils twisting and contorting in an organic motion. Underneath were carved grotesques that held the colossal, writhen mass aloft.

The Emperor paced about his room, catching his reflection from the corner of his eye as he’d walk past the giant treasure. Mirrored was a Skeksis wrinkled in worry and drain. A revolting sight he did not want to see. He wanted … he wanted more! More then only his lone impression. Skekso felt his anger rise, stopping before the mirror and his claws grasping the sides of the metal.

“Show me something real, damn you!” He shook the frame of the mirror faintly. “I … I cannot bear another day of these lies. This rot …” SkekSo did not beg, no. He commanded. “Show me someone true. Be rid of what I see before me …”

Then the glass surface stirred as though it had become water. The goldenness melted off the frame, flowing up and merging in the whirl. Ripples of light illumined the royal chamber. The Skeksis emperor stepped back in surprise, watching as the sight before him warped. A susurrus of voices began to speak. _“Oh, imperial emperor, we, the slave in the mirror, shall heed your command and show you a maiden whose tongue is not dipped in deceit, whose heart is unclaimed.”_

The vortex cast an image was of a woman clad in a long white coat, with concentrated eyes she regarded a relic in diligent study. She took great care of the aged object. The human being emanated an aura of empathy and humility.

“The being his majesty sees before him has a heart that can hold an empire. Your empire. For her heart yearns to give her love, her devotion; her very being.” 

SkekSo’s eyes narrowed in thought. No thirst for power, only love.

_  
“How does his majesty deem her?”_

  
The question wracked his mind for weeks after that; each day commanding the mirror to show him the girl once more. She was alien, not of Thra, like himself. Her face was flat like a Gelfling, no beak, but he liked it. He watched her daily life, her loves and passions and friends. SkekSo saw how tenderly she was with animals, as she had been with her work as a restorator, how she smiled so much joy and wonder, and how in her down times she loved to read. Her library was extensive. 

The woman was smart, studious, kind, loving – everything his court lacked. 

There was a time he caught her bathing … and SkekSo could not help but take in the art he saw before him; skin dripped in oiled water and the soap suds flowing down from her curves. He could almost smell the flowers used to make her latherings. 

He needed her, wanted her. Yes, he finally had his answer to the question his mirror asked. It was late in the evening when he was particularly tired and wanton, another day of court life behind him. In the reflection he ached for her arms to pass through and reach him for an embrace.

  
“Mirror,” The Emperor said with a deep, clear tone. “I deem her mine. Bring her to me! Or if you have no such capacity, point me to someone who can! I cannot wait for her another second …” 

_“And we shall bring you your bride,” the disembodied voices whispered, “but we implore his imperial majesty to be patient.”_

“No,” SkekSo’s voice dropped to a deep growl, “I need her now!” His staff hit the floor with a thunderous thud.

 _“Alas, we cannot, not yet. To cross she must reach our counterhalf in her world and speak out what she yearns most.”_ At this SkekSo arched a brow. _“But be not despondent, sire, for her destiny is nigh. Rest assured, and accept this humble consolidation we offer.”_ Swirls of golden light suffused into the Skeksis emperor; a somnolent peace spread through him as he went to bed.

  
In the dreamscape the Emperor stood in statuesque silence of a dimly lit ballroom; watching and waiting in the elegant but empty room. Then his breath was taken away as a figure came in on tentative feet. 

With a caution akin to awe, she touched the gilded vines on the black helical column until she caught her reflection in a mirrored girandole. Her mouth went agape as she admired her pearl trimmed sleeves that shone in the candlelight. Her silver-white gown twirled as she touched the white sheer of the whisk collar in an apparent timidity; as though she had never been this beautiful before. But she was luminous like a lodestar in darkness. 

With ever regality, SkekSo strode over to her and then gave a genteel bow. Taken by surprise, a blush bloomed on the apples of her cheeks, abashed but accepting of his invitation. They touched hand to hand as they slowly circled each other. Low cello drones sounded by the strings of invisible servants; commencing the dance. 

The Emperor’s long sleeves swished around, spreading like dark wings as they were waltzing throughout the ballroom; black and white intertwining. Then SkekSo held the human woman high by the waist and spun her round. Pearl beads of her girdle bounced as she dropped down. Her bright giggle made his heart swell. Both took in the intimate joy they shared.

  
For once in many trines, the emperor woke up invigorated. What he had dreamt was no ordinary conjuring of the imagination, but had been real – His dance with his intended. Her intoxicating scent, the pearls woven into her locks, her radiant smile. It has been many a trine since he had been given such a magnificent gift.

And now, he would prepare her gifts in return for the dance.

She liked to study, to learn, therefore he had a study made for his precious one. There she could read and collect her oddities. He would bring her artifacts of Thra and beyond; the entire cosmos if need be. Her story would be far more beautiful than the orrery made for Aughra. 

Alongside the study was an impressive library of books, one to rival that of the Scroll Keeper’s horde and that of Ha’rar. He’d have literature of all kinds for her to read, more than what could ever be possible for one lifetime. Oh … he’d make sure she’d live just as long as he. Death would not claim his beloved bride; she would not turn to dust. Forever would she stay by his side.

Next was a closet of stunning dresses and robes, many made to match his own … but specially one made specifically from their shared dream. White-silver and pearled, as close to the image he had seen then. He watched her many times to gauge how her shoes would be made, hiring the Ornamentalist to handcraft slippers of fine silks that would fit her. 

And lastly, a ring of silver. Chased and pierced in fashion to that of his beak prosthetic. Crowned with a faceted crystal. One of the many small reminders she belonged to him.

Oh … and belong to him she would. Talons ticked on the looking glass as he watched her sleep, golden tendrils glode through his hand as he caressed her soft countenance. Soon, very soon.  
  


* * *

  
After a series of preparations and anticipations, the in-situ restoration project had initiated. With finely pencilled precision, a brush tip retouched lacunas, reconnecting stems of flowering buds on the wall. Eyes straining, a minuscule dot was placed on a petal before she set the palette down. Her muscles ached and she stepped back from the mural, deciding to take a break. Her fingers slid on the curved balustrade as she ascended the stairway to explore the château. Through worn down corridor wings she wandered until she came to a door. Opening it, she entered a dimmed room seeming to be encapsulated by time. She examined the peeling plaster of the stucco, moving past sparse furniture until her eyes set upon a massive object draped by a sheet. As though it had a magnetic force, she came closer to the mysterious object in the centre of the room. Arching an eyebrow as her hands reached for its covering and pulled. The sheet slid off the arched cresting surmounted by bestial masks and slumped onto the floor, scattering dust into the air, making her cough. There stood a gilded mirror, perplexing organic in composition but pristine in condition, its ornate surround gorgonized her.

Touching its tendrils the young woman thought on what the château was when vim coursed through its veins. Wearing a smile, she began swaying in front of the flecked glass, stirring her verve. Reviving her peculiar but phantastic dream of dancing shadows in candleglow. Engaged in a waltz with her enigmatic suitor who, to her sadness, was effaced from her memory. Never had she felt so sublime; dressed in a gown that gave a margaritaceous sheen as he spun her round with a most genteel grace in their shared gait. Oh, why did she had to cede it? Like with every dream of hers?

  
“I just wished I was in a world less restrictive, less restrained,” she muttered absentmindedly to herself.

  
As the words were pronounced the prongs of the brass lock pressed into the pin chambers. She turned in confusion to the door, sensing a heaviness setting in the atmosphere as she did. The surface of the frame lost its bright lustre as it ungilded, and the glass unleashed a lurid glare.

_  
“This world is forbidding. Withers dreams like flower buds in winter.”_

  
Eyes dilated and her breathing became faster. She bolted to the door and pried at its lock. The light of the mirror’s magic whorled, it hummed and pulsated with a prenatural energy, then emerged a pair of emaciated hands. The lever violently clinked. She shut her eyes and battered her body against the door. A sobbing scream came out of her as they prised her eyelids open and entered into her eyes. Aureoles drew around dulling irises. The human turned and treaded to the mirror.

_  
“And your spirit yearns to soar, cast away the chains of the mundane that mould the soul.”_

  
Smoke furled from their agape mouths, spindling slender threads of fantasies like filigree into the reflective surface – its light beckoning her, bright like sunstreams in midsummer dreamings.

_  
“Open your heart, offer it entirely.”_

  
By its command she opened her arms to the otherworldly beacon, the grotesques unpetrified and elevated her like footmen onto the pier to enter through the mirror.

On transcrossing the barrier, the overpowering thrall on the human being broke. She winced and raised her hands to rub the sharp throbbing in her temples away, only for a wizened hand covered in scales to reach hers and a heavy ring to be placed upon her finger. Her blood ran cold as she lay her eyes on his corrugated face – dark obsession coruscating in his light-coloured eyes.

Nail tips pressed in her chin and underlip, through the crooked teeth in his smirk he rasped, “… _my queen_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lovely collab with tumblr user Anthar Wolfen.  
> https://anthar-wolfen.tumblr.com/


End file.
